Making mentally ill defendants ready for trial

In this Friday, May 3, 2013 photo, Michael Jumes, director of psychology, left, acts as bailiff as he works with patients in a mock courtroom at the Kerrville State Hospital in Kerrville, Texas. The courtroom is used to run mock trials as a teaching and training tool for patients. (AP Photo/Eric Gay)
— AP

In this Friday, May 3, 2013 photo, Michael Jumes, director of psychology, left, acts as bailiff as he works with patients in a mock courtroom at the Kerrville State Hospital in Kerrville, Texas. The courtroom is used to run mock trials as a teaching and training tool for patients. (AP Photo/Eric Gay)
/ AP

In Texas, the state Legislature has advanced bills to create a similar program. In Colorado, the Department of Human Services has sought funding for its own jail-based treatment.

Advocates for the mentally ill have spoken out against the proposals.

"Jail is not a therapeutic environment," said Katharine Ligon, a health care analyst at the nonprofit Center for Public Policy Priorities, testifying against the pilot program proposal. Jails, she argued, lack the training, resources and will to provide proper care.

Even patients who have been treated in hospitals often regress when they return to jail to await a court hearing, experts say.

"The downside to treating them in jail," said Christopher Slobogin, a professor of psychiatry and director of the criminal justice program at Vanderbilt University, "is that it's a jail."

Here at the Kerrville State Hospital, where the typical patient is a man in his forties who has been arrested on violent felony charges, "helping people gain the competency to stand trial and recover from their mental illness is a tall order," Dr. Jumes said. "And we try to strike that balance."

As the mock trial began, participants followed the script of a case involving a man who impersonated a police officer to steal a car. Dr. Janet Mueller, a psychologist who led the trial, said she was careful to avoid using scenarios resembling the participants' actual crimes, partly to protect their privacy and partly to avoid upsetting them.

As he listened to testimony, the patient playing the judge rocked in his seat, stared at the ceiling, pulled at his hair and briefly rested his head on the desk. At one point, he asked whether the district attorney needed to be sworn in.

In the end, the two-man jury delivered a split verdict. The judge asked to be reminded of the charges. Then he spoke up.

"Well, I got something," the judge said. "If he's so not guilty, why don't they take his fingerprints?"